Contents

Going coastal: Up your odds of deer-hunting in the marshes

The suspicious speck of white flickered some 200 yards away, resembling what might have been simply a bird flying or the cotton-like puff from the head of a cattail bursting its contents in the wind.

But, when hunting deer in the marsh, nothing is left to chance — where coastal deer are concerned, more often than not it’s simply “now you see em, now you don’t.”

The suspicious white-colored flicker needed to be thoroughly checked out, and not simply become a passing thought that would leave me wondering on the boat ride to the landing.

Picking up my binoculars, I studied the white speck. It was still moving and, low and behold, the white turned out to be a deer’s ear.[…]

Contents

Tale of two weeks: Bayou Dularge redfish action goes crazy in October

Three days after Hurricane Isaac raked across coastal Louisiana, Capt. Marty LaCoste launched his 24-foot Blue Wave Pure Bay from Jugs Landing at the end of Highway 315 below Houma in Terrebonne Parish.

He knew what he was looking for, but he wasn’t sure he was going to find it.

Turns out, after making a loop from Lake Mechant into Sister Lake, down to the coast, up Pelican Pass and on into Bay Junop and King Lake, he found no birds and no clear water.

His catch for the day included a couple of redfish, a black drum and a freshwater catfish.

Things were a lot better for him two days later.[…]

Bass Fishing

Venice Bass Brigade

Jonathan Ryan is an avid speckled-trout angler.

The perfect day for him is finding some new honey hole in what’s left of the Delacroix marsh, and throwing double-rigged Hybrids to specks that are on Jenny Craig’s new plastic-only diet.[…]

Bass Fishing

Made in the Shade: Catch more bass by fishing the shade

My Lucky Craft Sammy topwater landed less than its length from the base of a cypress tree. I mindlessly snapped it back and forth a couple times to impart that lazy walk-the-dog action that big bass just can’t seem to ignore.

At 7:30 in the morning, my shirt was already soaked with sweat, so I diverted my attention away from my Sammy sitting lifelessly on the surface in an effort to see if there was any shade we could get under.

The slurping sound hardly registered in my mind, so when I turned around to walk my Sammy again, I was surprised to find that it was nowhere to be found.[…]

Contents

Riding the bull

The recoil of the 168 grain Hornady Match A-Max .30-06 rammed the rifle stock backwards, pushing it straight into my shoulder—in line with the prone position I had taken in the gravel shooting pit of the rifle range.[…]